The Couslands of Highever
by Trackies
Summary: Cousland Origins Prequel. Death walks the halls of Highever Castle and dwells on the lives of the family who ruled there. Multi-chapter stories based around the Cousland family.
1. Prologue: The Musings of Death

Disclaimer: Death speaks with an English accent.

Summary: The spirit of death walks the halls of Highever and reflects on the lives of the family who ruled there.

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Prologue

The Musings of Death

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Not often do I find a family that captures my attention for more than the briefest moment. I float by, taking their souls and seeing flashes of their lives, but rarely do they interest me. And I never grieve for those lost as I move on.

Tonight I walked through a battle – no, I've seen more battles than I care to remember and this was no battle, though it was as bloody as any scene. I took the souls of men, woman and children who were pulled from their beds and slaughtered before their little minds knew what was happening. I took men who fought in their smallclothes, who were cut down from wounds that would have glanced off armour made of plate or chain. I took many who did naught by cower and beg the Maker for mercy as they died. They were all innocent and unaware of their fate before it came. I could almost be sorry to say I did not take many of those wearing armour marked by the bear who had violated their right as guests, but I knew their time would come and I would be there to greet them.

I leaned over a man with a sword wound in his chest. His breath came in short gasps as he drowned in his own blood. He stared at me, eyes wide with horror. He could not scream, no matter how he tried. It was always awkward when the dying saw my face. I closed his eyes and took his soul. He seemed peaceful now, aside from the blood bubbles around his lips.

As I straightened I saw an arrow pierce a soldier's throat. I believe it was the soldier who killed the man whose soul I just took. I took his soul as well and looked down the blood-soaked corridor at the woman who had fired the arrow. Now she was a comical sight, I could have laughed if it were in me to. She had thrown a leather breastplate over her nightgown and her greying hair was in complete disarray. She fitted another arrow to her bowstring and sent it after another soldier dressed in the same dirty armour as the one whose soul I just took. The arrow drove through the soldier's mail just under his shoulder. I let him be. It would still be a while before I took his soul.

A man stepped out in front of the bow-wielding woman, carrying a sword and shield bearing the Cousland family crest. He was not wearing armour; no doubt he had been roused from bed by the soldiers who bore the bear crest on their arms and armour. I remembered this young man, for he had waltzed on the line between life and myself before.

I drifted towards this young man and his mother and leaned in close to listen to their conversation.

"The path to the hall is blocked." the young man said, pointing his sword towards a section of burning rubble that blocked the corridor further down the corridor. The ceiling had collapsed, trapping an elven servant underneath. I took his soul before the flames had reached him.

"We must go around, down the southern halls by the chapel," the woman said. "I hope your father and sister are there."

"They will be," the young Cousland replied, sounding less than certain. "They have to be."

I floated behind them as they fought their way through the castle's hallways. I took many souls that they presented to me with sword and broadhead arrow and I wondered if I would take their souls today as well.

When the pair and young Cousland's hound reached the southern entrance to the Great Hall, they were greeted with the sounds of men dying. The young man burst through the door and only took the barest instant to look around before leaping into the fray. His hound leapt onto an armoured man and tore out his throat as the young man danced. He left his sword impaled in the corpse of one of Howe's men before he hefted a dagger and threw it through the heart of a mage who was summoning fire to her hands.

The fight was over in moments. I went from dead to dead and took their souls.

"Gilmore!" The young man said to a tall soldier with red hair and clothed in chainmail.

"Aedan," Gilmore replied. "Thank the Maker you're alive. I had feared the worst."

"Have you seen my father or Elissa?"

"The Teyrn was here a moment ago. He left to go find you." Gilmore feel silent.

"And Elissa?"

Gilmore pointed at a young woman with brown hair streaked with gold, who lay in front of the fire place with her hands clasped together over her stomach.

The Teyrna – Eleanor was her name, I remembered now – cried out in despair and ran over to her daughter who lay as cold as I. "My darling girl," she wept and cradled her daughter's head in her hands.

Aedan stood over them, holding a new sword limply in his hands. I saw grief in his brown eyes. I saw anger there too, fury that would not be contained for long.

"The mage hit her with a spell. I don't know what it did to her, but I couldn't find her heartbeat." Gilmore said. He removed his gauntlet to wipe his eyes and brow.

I leaned over Elissa Cousland's head and smelled her soul, but did not take it. It was not her time, contrary to her deathly appearance. I would hold her soul in my hands one day, but that spell would not deliver her to me.

"Howe will pay!" Aedan's voice was filled with hate, as many voices were before they took the life of another. I was always there to see.

"We must find Bryce," Eleanor said, wiping tears from her eyes. She smoothed her daughter's hair away from her pale face. "The servants' passage in the larder; he must have gone there."

"We'll hold Howe's men back as long as we can," Gilmore said. "You must escape."

"Thank you, Gilmore," Aedan said and gripped Gilmore's forearm in one of those odd gestures of respect these humans enjoyed.

Gilmore nodded and returned the gesture before running towards the main doors. The thick oaken bar holding the door in place was beginning to crack. Gilmore added his weight to the door, along with three other Highever soldiers. I would be back for them soon.

Aedan bent over his sister's body and kissed her forehead, before leading his mother and hound through the northern entrance. How touching.

I took the souls of several more of Rendon Howe's soldiers, including a knight dressed in thick plate who swung a heavy maul around as if it were a mere stick. He fought with bravery and skill, before Aedan ducked under a swing and rammed his sword through the knight's chestplate so vigorously the blade snapped from the strain. The knight fell and I had his soul in my hands before his body clunked against the stone.

They found the Teyrn of Highever in a pool of his own blood in the larder, just outside the servants' passageway out of the castle. I confess I did not pay much attention to their final moments together, I have heard it all before. I could feel the life slowly leaving Teyrn Bryce Cousland's body, so I knelt beside him and waited. Perhaps I should have gone back, to where Howe's soldiers had only moments ago burst through the oaken beam and put brave Ser Gilmore and the other soldiers to the sword. I could feel their souls drifting and I was compelled to collect them, but something kept me here. It was a sensation I rarely felt and did not understand.

I felt . . . sadness for this family. They were betrayed, broken, and did not deserve the fate that had been dealt to them.

They would never be together again.

I had seen glimpses of this family before, as I have had glimpses of many who have managed to escape me and clung to their fragile lives. It is unusual that I remembered this family when I have oft forgotten kings and queens. A soul is just a soul and after all of this time they all look the same to me.

I smelled the Grey Warden Duncan before he arrived. He ran a rag down the length of his sword, cleaning blood and chunks of flesh from the silvery blade. His soul smelt dirty and dark, a consequence of the Joining ritual. He exchanged words with the Couslands, before leaving through the servants' passage with Aedan. I took Bryce Cousland's soul a few minutes later. I really should have left and claimed the rest of the souls, but again, I did not move.

Eleanor Cousland cradled her husband's head in her arms, just as she had done with her daughter. She wept freely, all of her strength breaking as her son fled through the passageway.

I remember floating over Eleanor Cousland as she birthed her eldest child. It had been a difficult birth and the child came out bloody after many hours. I had almost taken both of those souls that day and Eleanor had been so close to death she had seen my face. I did not witness the births of the other two children, of Aedan and Elissa. Those birthings were swift and a surprise to the midwives who were expecting hours, if not days of labour.

When Howe's soldiers broke into the larder, I took two of their souls before I took Eleanor Cousland's. She fired two arrows that struck heart and head before her head was parted from her shoulders. The soldiers took her head by the hair and removed Bryce's head from his corpse too. Some soldiers ran down the servants' passageway in pursuit of Aedan Cousland and the Grey Warden, but the rest returned to the Great Hall, to present the heads to Rendon Howe.

I followed them and retrieved the souls I had let linger for too long.

Rendon Howe looked far too pleased when the heads of Bryce and Eleanor Cousland were placed before him. He spoke to his soldiers, but I did not care pay attention to what was said. The body of Elissa Cousland was gone from the hearth, I did not know where. It is not my job to keep accounts on the whereabouts of the living.

I lingered for a moment in the blood-soaked hall and looked upon the portraits of the House of fallen Cousland. I am not usually prone to sentimentality and I do not know why I stayed when there was still more work to be done – here and elsewhere.

The family had stories, as all families did, I was sure. They had fought, loved and grieved together.

I should think this first tale will sound familiar to some, for it begins with a ship dashed against the rocks and ends, as many stories tend to do, with the heart of a woman, torn too quickly from grasp.

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Author's Note: I've always loved the Human Noble origin more than the others and have been wanting to write about their lives before Origins for a while now. This story will feature several stories that "Death" reflects on. Some will focus on Aedan and some Elessa. These stories will be multi-chaptered, not just single chapter oneshots.

I decided to have both the male and female characters from the Origin because I feel that it will make things more fun.

Thanks for reading. Drop a review if you liked it and have something to say, or you have some criticism. Either way, I hope you read on!


	2. Chapter One: The Sunken Ship

Chapter One

The Sunken Ship

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Aedan was suddenly glad he had forced himself out of bed early when his bedchamber door burst open and the head of Highever's household servants strode inside. Sophia never bothered to knock and had walked in on Aedan in varying states on undress on more than one occasion. Somehow it was nobody's fault but his too. She would never do that to his parents, or Elissa, but he and Fergus were fair game to her.

"I'm glad to see you awake. I feared I'd have to beat you out of bed with a broom," Sophia said as she walked over to Aedan's window and opened the drapes. The sun had barely broken the horizon and life in the castle was just beginning to stir. He could hear the clack of lathed practice blades hit straw dummies and the sharper sound of steel against steel from the barracks down below.

"Good morning to you, Sophia," Aedan said, mustering up the most charming smile he could manage this early in the morning. "You're looking particularly lovely today." And she was at that, too. Sophia had been at the castle for as long as Aedan could remember, but she was nowhere near the age of old Nan. Grey touched Sophia's dark hair at the temples and more lines had appeared around her eyes and mouth over recent years, but she was still the beauty she had apparently been when she was younger.

"Save that smile for some slip of a girl who'll be taken by it," Sophia said as she looked around the bedroom with a critical eye. Then, almost as an afterthought she said, "Twenty years ago I may have been fool enough."

Aedan's eyebrows rose and his mouth opened and closed uselessly, but he chose not to inquire further. He enjoyed matching wits with Sophia, but she was as likely to hang him from the battlements as she was to flirt back.

"Ariadne didn't tell me why I needed to be up and dressed," Aedan said with as much tact as he could muster.

"The Teyrn has matters to attend to at the harbour and wants to you accompany him," Sophia said.

"'Matters'?" Aedan repeated. "Why does he need me?" His father was in the habit of holding inspections around Highever once every day. They were random, so no one knew that the Teyrn was coming until he arrived. Aedan went along sometimes, but mostly his father took Fergus with him.

"I suspect because you are his noble son," Sophia said. "He wants you looking presentable; not looking like you've just come from a turn in the hayloft."

"Huh?" Aedan said.

Sophia walked over to his wardrobe as Aedan opened his mouth uselessly and pulled out a thick cotton undershirt. "Put this on," she said. Someone caught her eye from out in the hallway. "Ariadne!"

Aedan nearly jumped at the sudden bark, but he heard a squeak from out in the hallway and he thanked the Maker he didn't make a noise like that. A skinny maid with silky brown hair and wide, almond-shaped eyes appeared in the doorway. Her hair covered her ears well, but it couldn't hide the tips that were too round to be elvish and too pointed to be human.

"Yes, mistress," she said.

"Collect Lord Aedan's chainmail from the rack, please, girl," Sophia told Ariande before turning her attention onto Aedan. "And you, why aren't you wearing that undershirt yet?"

"I'm old enough to dress myself, you know," Aedan said as Ariadne darted off to the armour rack in the corner of the bedroom. He shot Ariadne a quick smile and she returned one that seemed to light up her whole face with mischief.

Sophia snorted as she turned back to the wardrobe and began sifting through the clothing. "It's funny enough when your brother says that, young lord. Is that shirt on yet?"

Aedan pulled the linen shirt he had been wearing over his head and tossed in on the bed. The cotton one was much thicker and clung to his body tightly from neck to thigh. He only ever wore this if he was wearing chainmail as it stopped the chains from pinching his skin. Ariadne gave him the chainmail and helped him straighten it properly when he shrugged into it.

Sophia emerged from the wardrobe with a cream coloured coat with red-gold trimmings. "This will do nicely," she said and held up the coat for Aedan to see. It was long enough to cover the chainmail completely.

Ariadne took the coat and held it open for Aedan to shrug into. She settled it around his shoulders and buttoned it closed. One side of the collar rose high on Aedan's neck, while the other folded neatly to the side.

"Very nice," Sophia said, nodding in approval. "What do you think, Ariadne?"

"Kingly, my lord," Ariadne said shyly, which was something Aedan had rarely heard from her before.

"Indeed," Sophia said. "It's nice to be reminded that you can make yourself presentable when the occasion demands it."

"Thank you, I think." Aedan said, nodding at both Sophia and Ariadne.

"And manners today too?" Sophia chuckled. "Take note of this day, Ariadne, for I think our young lord is growing up."

Aedan waved his hand dismissively at them as he picked up his sword belt and strapped it tightly around his waist.

"I best see how your brother is faring," Sophia said, striding towards the door. "The Teyrn wants you to wait for him in the courtyard."

"Have a wonderful day, Sophia," Aedan said to her, his voice dripping with honey.

Sophia snorted again. "And you too, young lord." She left the room and a few moments later Aedan heard Fergus's cry of protest as Sophia barged into his room without knocking.

"I had best get back to the kitchens," Ariadne said with a flash of that cheeky smile. She looked visibly more relaxed without Sophia in the room. She spread her skirts wide as she curtsied, giving him a glimpse of her stocking-clad thighs. "Goodbye, my lord."

She swept out of the bedroom, leaving Aedan to himself. He sighed heavily as he attached his long dagger to his belt and checked to see that the straps on his scabbard were tightened around the sword's crossguard. He could hear Fergus debating rather loudly with Sophia about the presentabiliy of his hair. Sophia would get her way in the end, sometimes it was best not to argue and just let her have her way.

He stopped by the dining hall on his way to the courtyard, hoping to the Maker that there was food inside. He pushed open the chamber door and was greeted with the smell of hot, honeyed porridge. Elissa was sitting at her usual place on the main table next to the stablemaster's daughter Jayne. Elissa raised a honey coloured eyebrow as he walked in, while Jayne's cheeks turned as red as the jam in her porridge.

"What are you doing?" Elissa asked, eyeing his coat. "I haven't seen you wear that before."

"Father wants me and Fergus to attend him this morning." Aedan shrugged. "I don't know why." His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked up to the main table as looked around for more food. He didn't have time to summon a servant to fetch it from the kitchens.

"Did that ruckus wake you up?" Elissa said. "Jayne said that a messenger pounded on the gates, yelling that something had happened."

Jayne nodded and said in a rather squeaky voice, "The shouting woke me up. When the guards on duty opened the gates, the messenger spoke to Ser Dolan before riding back into town with more than a dozen of the household guard."

"Interesting," Aedan said. "Can I have the rest of your breakfast, Elissa?"

For a moment he thought Elissa was going to say no, but she set her spoon down and pushed the half-eaten bowl of porridge towards him. He sat opposite her and dug in.

"That coat looks good on you," said Elissa, nodding in approval.

"Thanks," he said with a mouthful of food. Elissa shrivelled her nose in distaste. She had been odd like that lately. When she was younger she would always run around in breeches and coats, wielding a pair of wooden daggers. She never cared about being dirty or talking with your mouth full. She was fourteen now and it was only last year when she had swapped her boys clothes for fine dresses and began talking to Jayne about hairstyles and lip colours. Sometimes they managed to coax her out to go climbing for gull eggs along the cliffs, or go riding through the woods, but she would never agree to go if Jayne was with her.

"Perhaps there was a murder in town?" Jayne said, suddenly straightening in her chair. She rubbed her side and shot a sheepish look at Elissa. Jayne was wearing her hair loose around her shoulders today, Aedan realised. He had only ever seen her wear it in braids before.

Aedan shrugged. "Perhaps that's true. It would explain why the guardsmen were dispatched."

"It's father's duty to deliver the king's justice," Elissa said.

"Whatever happened, it was serious enough for the guardsmen on duty to wake Ser Dolan."

"And it was serious enough for him to wake father," Elissa said.

Aedan nodded in agreement.

"It's quite exciting, don't you think?" Jayne said. Her voice still sounded slightly squeaky.

"I suppose it is," Aedan said as he polished off the last of Elissa's porridge and stood up. "Thanks for that, Elissa."

"That's all right," she replied with a disapproving glint in her eye.

"I'd best be going. I don't want to keep father waiting."

Jayne waved goodbye to him as he clomped his way back out into the halls. Elissa's eyes seemed to bore deep into his back.

The castle had erupted into life now. Servants and maids rushed down the halls, while children danced and dodged around them in search of food or something to do. It was so loud down here compared to the section where he slept. There was always a constant clamor of voices and activity, whether it was from the castle smithy or the chapel by the front gate. He bypassed the Great Hall and walked out into the courtyard. Several guards were talking at the front gate, leaning on their pikes or holding them loosely. The sound of soldiers training echoed over the low wall separating the barracks from the rest of the castle. He tried to spot Ser Dolan, or anyone else who might be able to tell him what was going on, but they were either with his father or already departed.

It wasn't long before he saw Fergus walk into the courtyard, yawning into his hand. Fergus's dark brown hair was combed backwards so it wasn't falling freely across his eyes. He was dressed similarly to Aedan, though his coat was blue, with the same red-gold embellishments. He wore it open at the collar, revealing the silvery glint of his chainmail vest. He grinned when he spotted Aedan and changed his step to meet him.

"I'm shocked you made it here before me," he said. "I'd have wagered silver that you would have lain in bed until Sophia used her broom on you."

"I heard her go into your room earlier," Aedan said. "I heard arguing about your hair."

Fergus touched his hair and grimaced. "She says I should have it cut, or comb it back properly." He made his voice sound higher and placed both hands sternly on his hips. "'You're the heir of Highever, not a stable boy with a horse's mane'."

Aedan laughed. "Don't let her hear you like that."

Fergus pretended to grimace. "I'd be whisked away Maker knows where until I learned the meaning of respect."

"She picked my clothes out for me this morning and had Ariadne dress me in them."

Fergus's eyebrows rose. "She picked out my clothes for me too, but I didn't have a beautiful half-elven maid making sure I put my head through the right hole. I had to manage all by myself."

"You could have asked Sophia for help."

Fergus shuddered and then laughed. "I've seen you and Ariadne whispering late into the night on more than one occasion."

"We've been talking about getting married," Aedan said with a grin.

"Maker, mother would strangle you," Fergus laughed again. "Our family would be the talk of Ferelden: the second son of a noble house, strangled by his kin for daring to marry a half-elven bastard girl."

Aedan laughed as well. When silence eventually fell, he said, "I really do enjoy her conversation though. She's very witty."

"That she is," Fergus agreed. "Though a bit old for you, don't you think?"

"She's your age!"

"Aye, but that's still four years." Fergus scratched his chin. "It may not seem like much, but there is a great different between seventeen and twenty-one." He grinned at the look on Aedan's face and said, "Tis only a jest, brother."

"Would it really be so bad if I were to marry her?" Aedan asked.

"Aedan," Fergus said slowly, and seriously.

"I'm only asking. Mother and Father wish all of us to marry for love. What if I fell in love with Ariadne and wished to marry her."

"We each have a duty to this House. Mother and Father will encourage us to find our own way, but they expect us to do what's best. Elissa will likely marry the heir of a noble house, hopefully in Ferelden, but likely in the Free Marches or even Orlais as a way to strengthen the bond between our countries. You may even find yourself with an Orlesian bride one day, brother."

"I don't think father would accept a marriage between an Orlesian and one of his children."

"Who can say? Father knows that bonds through marriage are a powerful way to form alliances."

"I think he'd rather me marry Ariadne," Aedan said.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." Fergus laughed. "Ariadne will have done very well for herself if she manages to ensnare you. I've heard of dwarven women who will try to sire children with a member of the nobility to gain a place in that household. It may not work the same way here, but I think she knows as well as Mother and Father that if you impregnated her she may just find herself as your pretty wife." He laughed again at the look on Aedan's face and clapped him on the shoulder. "Just be wary of making her any promises. You're a Cousland and your word is your honour."

Silence fell between them as Aedan pondered the thought. He had never thought of Ariadne in this way before, he had certainly never entertained the idea of marrying her. He enjoyed talking to her and kissing her in a dark corner when no one else was around, but that was all it was, wasn't it? Ariadne didn't think it was anything more, did she?

"What if Prince Cailan broke his betrothal to Anora and ran off with a half-elven servant?" Aedan said, breaking the silence.

Fergus shook his head and grinned "I think he's too enraptured by Anora to even think of straying, at least until he finally has her. That man cares more for the chase than the prize. But if he were to run off with an elf, I suspect Father would try to fill the void in Anora's life with me or you."

"It would be you," Aedan said with certainty.

"I'm not so sure. My place is here in Highever and hers is in the capital. And I can't picture Teyrn Loghain allowing his daughter to settle for anyone less than a king, can you?"

Aedan had met Teyrn Loghain only once before, but had seen him several times when his father left Highever to attend court. He was a proud man, who looked at the people around him like a hawk. Aedan didn't think Teyrn Loghain would allow his daughter anyone but Prince Cailan either.

"Ah, here's Father now," Fergus said, pointing towards the entrance to the Great Hall. "Let's not bring up marrying half-elves or Orlesian brides while he's around to hear. There's no need for him to hear us and tell Mother."

Aedan nodded. He could almost imagine the talking his mother would give him if she learned he had discussed marrying a servant with Fergus, even if it was only in jest.

"Good morning, Father," Fergus said brightly as they walked up to Bryce Cousland at the foot of the steps to the Great Hall. Bryce was dressed neatly, as he always did, but he was not wearing his sword or any kind of armour. Ser Dolan was his armoured shadow, dressed in full plate and wearing the tabard coat bearing the teardrop and crossed spear crest of Highever and the laurel of House Cousland. A greatsword was slung over his back.

"Ah, I'm glad to see my boys up and ready," Bryce said over his shoulder to Ser Dolan, who smiled.

"Sophia beat us out of bed with garden brooms," Fergus said. "I think she's warming up to us."

Bryce looked both Aedan and Fergus up and down, taking note of their fine coats and chainmail and frowned. "You two are dressed finely. We're going to the harbour, not attending court."

Aedan exchanged a glance with Fergus, but before either of them could say anything, Bryce chuckled.

"Ahh, Sophia had you dressed this morning, did she?"

They nodded in unison.

"At least, for once, you look the part of my noble sons."

"What business do you have at the harbour?" Aedan asked as his father lead the way towards the stables. The grooms had four horses waiting for them in the stable's entrance. They had all been saddled and bridled. Aedan walked towards the honey-coloured gelding he had been given on his fourteenth birthday. He stroked the horse's nose affectionately and received a handful of horse saliva in return.

"A messenger came to the castle an hour before dawn," Bryce said as he pulled on a pair of riding gloves and mounted his horse. "A trade ship from Kirkwall ran into the Jaws a mile or two off from the harbour."

"How did the captain manage that?" Aedan asked in surprise as he wiped his hand. His gelding almost seemed to be laughing. "Did he not see the lighthouse?" The Jaws was the name given by sailors to a set of jaw-like rocks that hid just beneath the water not far from the coast. They were near impossible to see at night and many ships had met their end there before the lighthouse had been built.

"That's the question to ask," Bryce said. "Ser Dolan questioned the messenger, but he knew very little. He had been sent to gather guardsmen to help man the rescue galleys. They've been sweeping men and cargo out of the water since before it was light enough to navigate the rocks."

Fergus and Ser Dolan mounted their own horses and Bryce led the way out of the stables. A small group of soldiers had formed ranks just outside the main gate. Ser Dolan cantered up to them and began barking orders.

"We'll find out more when we get there," Bryce said as Aedan and Fergus took position on either side of him.

They rode through the gate and down the cobblestone road that curled around the outskirts of Highever Castle and into town. Aedan raised his hand to block the sun and looked at the sea that stretched beyond the town and into the horizon. If he looked carefully enough he thought he could almost see the broken remains of the ship that had been ruined on the rocks.


	3. Chapter Two: To the Lighthouse

Chapter Two

The Sunken Ship

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The harbour was caught in a whirlwind of activity quite unlike Aedan had ever seen before. Sailors and dock workers were dashing around, climbing on and off of ships and galleys with long masts and furled sails. The harbourmaster, a tall, broad shouldered man with thick, black hair who looked as if he hadn't shaved in a week, barked orders from the top of a barrel that somehow carried far across the noise and flurry of movements. Waterlogged cargo had been scattered in front of one of the wharfs where a narrow galley was tied. Sailors darted to and from the ship, carrying crates and boxes and occasionally the drowned corpse of an unfortunate soul.

Bryce dismounted and handed the reins to one of the guards. Aedan dismounted too and passed on his reins. He saw Fergus do the same. The harbourmaster caught sight of Bryce as they approached and jumped off of the barrel he had been standing on.

"Teyrn Cousland!" he said in a booming voice. "Miserable morning. You shouldn't have troubled yourself by coming down."

"I wanted to see things for myself," Bryce said grimly. "There hasn't been an accident at the jaws since before my grandfather's time.

Sometimes Aedan forgot that his father and the harbourmaster were friends. He thought Bryce enjoyed talking to someone who didn't caution his tongue because of his father's title. The harbourmaster was always respectful, just very gruff and loud. Aedan rather liked the man. It made for a welcome change to the grovelling and bootlicking some of the minor banns and common people did. Some of the lords, especially in the capital, actually enjoyed having people ply them with honeyed words.

"It's been a miserable morning, like I said," the harbourmaster said. "We've been pulling as many bloated corpses out of cracks in the jaws as we have live ones."

"Where are the bodies?" Bryce asked.

"Laid out on the end of the jetty." The harbourmaster said, pointing in the direction of the narrow galley. "I sent a boy to the Chantry to find a brother or sister who'll take care of them. He hasn't come back yet."

"Is the ship's captain among the dead?"

The harbourmaster guffawed. "No, he's still alive. He's the one in his smallclothes fretting over the state of his cargo." He pointed at a shirtless man who was walking around the cargo clutching his head. "He was asleep when his ship hit the jaws. The first mate helmed the wheel, but he won't be answering any questions. We pulled his salted body out of the drink."

"We'll have to question as many of the ship's passengers and crew as we can," Bryce said thoughtfully. "Fergus, tell the men to round up as many of them as you can, then go talk to the Captain. Find out what you can."

Fergus nodded and hurried off towards the soldiers who had come down to the harbour with them. He spoke to Ser Dolan before walking towards the ship's captain, who was now kicking the side of one of his cargo crates furiously.

"Dedicated, that one is," the harbourmaster jerked his thumb towards Fergus. "He'll make a fine Teyrn one day."

"I am very proud," Bryce replied. "Of all my children." He smiled at Aedan.

The harbourmaster took a step closer to Bryce and said, "You should know, we pulled a pair of waterlogged templars from one of the rocks. Both alive and none too happy by the ship's fate. I ain't ever seen a templar look so flustered before." He laughed heartily.

"We don't often have templars travelling from the Marches to Highever," Bryce said. "What was their business here?"

"They wouldn't tell me. I am the master of this here harbour and they talked down to me like I was a stableboy. Self-righteous fools. They've been poking through the cargo we pulled and looking at all the bodies that we've dredged up. Don't know what their looking for, but they ain't found it yet."  
"Where are they now?"

The harbourmaster shrugged. "Damned if I know. They're likely off sulking somewhere if they haven't left the harbour already. Perhaps they'll be in an amenable mood when you talk to them." His face suddenly fell and he pointed at a pair of men walking towards them from near the jetty. "And you're 'bout to find out."

"Thank you for your assistance," Bryce said.

"It's not a problem, Teyrn." The harbourmaster shot a scathing glance at the two templars and said, "I'll be on my way then, I'm sure some bilge rat out there needs ordering about."

Bryce nodded and the harbourmaster marched off towards a pair of sailors who were carrying a long box between them.

"Should I help question the sailors?" Aedan asked. The soldiers had dispersed around the harbour and were talking to bedraggled survivors and sailors they had stopped from hurrying about.

"No," Bruce said. "Let's talk to these templars first. I want you to hear what they have to say."

"Is it really so unusual for templars to dock here?" Aedan asked. "Isn't Highever port the closest to the tower at Lake Calenhad?"

"It is, but templars coming from the Marches are ordered to send advanced word of their arrival."

"These two didn't?"

"Not unless the bird became lost over the Waking Sea."

Aedan's brow furrowed in thought. "If they've been looking through the dead and searching through the cargo, then they've lost someone. And something."

"So it would seem," Bryce said. "Let's see what they have to say."

The two templars closed the distance between them quickly. Neither wore the templar armour bearing the sword and sunburst, which Aedan considered to be a small blessing considering they had been pulled from a shipwreck, but their white uniforms marked them for who they were, even if the white had been stained to almost grey by the salt and sea.

"Teyrn Cousland," one of the men said, raising his hand. Aedan glanced at the man's thick, brown beard for a moment before focusing on the man's eyes. They seemed to glow unnaturally bright.

"It is important that we speak to you," the templar with the brown beard said. "My companion and I are Templars from the Order in Kirkwall." He held up his ring which bore the white sword and sunburst of the Templar Order. "I am Knight-Corporal Dommick and this is Knight-Corporal Mettin." He gestured at his companion who wore his orange beard significantly shorter. He had the same glow in his eyes as Dommick.

Bryce frowned at the ring before inspecting both of the Templars. "What brings Templars from Kirkwall to Highever?" Bryce asked. "To my knowledge, we have no apostates here and we received no word of your arrival."

"Apostates are found in every city and often in unexpected places," the templar Dommick replied.

"And the Order in Ferelden is vigilant enough to find them," Bryce said. "You have not explained why you are here."

The two templars exchanged a glance. "Mettin and I were escorting an apostate from Kirkwall to the Circle in Ferelden," Dommick said. "We were unable to personally send word that we were coming, but we were reassured that the order would send word for us. Clearly something went awry."

"Clearly," Bryce said. "What happened to your apostate?"

"We have not seen her since the ship ran into rocks. Perhaps she drowned, which would be a blessing, but I do not dare to return to Kirkwall without evidence of her death."

"Do you not have her phylactery?" Bryce said.

"It was lost in the wreckage, along with our arms and armour." Dommick admitted. He looked positively furious at the thought.

"That's very unfortunate," Bryce said. "Give a description of this apostate to Ser Dolan, my captain of the guard. He'll ensure that Highever's soldiers are on alert for this girl."

"Thank you, my lord. We shall. If this Ser Dolan would also emphasise the danger this girl possesses to your men it would count as a service to them. She is pretty slip of a girl, but more deadly than any sword."

"My men will be aware," Bryce said. "The hospitality of Highever Castle is open to you, in the meantime."

"Thank you for your assistance, my lord." Dommick said with a smile that never touched his eyes. "The Order will remember your assistance in this matter."

* * *

"The captain of Fair Lady's Kiss had very little of use to say," Fergus said as he returned to them some time later. His hair had fought free of its combing and fell loosely over his eyes.

"'Fair Lady's Kiss'?" Aedan asked.

"He said it was named for a noblewoman he spent a vigorous night with when he was young," Fergus shrugged. "He loved that ship so much he would have gutted his First Mate and left him to the birds if he were still alive. He went into great detail."

"What did he tell you?" Bryce asked, before Aedan could ask more about the origin of the ship's name.

"Very little of worth. He had been sleeping, like the Harbourmaster said. He woke up to the rocks crushing his hull and saltwater filling the ship. I asked him about his cargo, but he says without the shipping manifest he can't say for certain how much he lost, though he estimates its value at over ten thousand sovereigns." Fergus rolled his eyes. "He seemed more concerned about this loss than the lives of his passengers or crew."

"Of course he does," Bryce shook his head. "Did he mention anything about a pair of templars escorting an apostate?"

"He did." Fergus nodded with a frown. "He says he didn't want them aboard, but they paid him in gold - you should have seen the light in his eyes when he talked about it – and threatened him with force until he agreed to have them. He never saw much of the apostate; the templars had a sack over her head for most of the trip. To his credit, he said it didn't sit right with him seeing a woman treated the way they were treating her – apostate or not."

Aedan imagined having a sack shoved over his head, his hands bound and unable to do anything to resist. He would almost prefer death to that fate.

"I think he's quite shocked by the ordeal and loss of his livelihood. He did not have much else to say."

Their father scratched his chin and looked around the commotion that still had the harbour captured. "So, what do you think we should do now, Fergus?" Bryce asked.

Fergus's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he straightened his shoulders and frowned in thought. "I think someone should talk to the lighthouse keeper and find out if anything was amiss last night. We should also send a galley down the coast in case some survivor's managed to swim to land. I'm sure they'll find some more cargo at the least."

"Good, but what about those two templars?"

"I'm not sure there is much else we can do short of sending a bird to the Circle here in Ferelden to confirm their story. We can tell the guards to watch for this girl, but they won't be able to do much to apprehend without a templar there to block her magic – unless they caught her sleeping of course." He glanced at the two templars, who had their heads bent in discussion by the wharf. "And I think those two would prefer to look for the girl alone.

"Good, Fergus." Bryce nodded in approval.

"Father," Fergus said. "Do you think this is more than an accident?"

Bryce looked at Aedan. "What do you think, pup?"

Aedan voiced the thought that had been bouncing around his head since they entered the harbour. "A ship has not run into the jaws since the lighthouse was built, so either the First Mate was a fool and not paying attention, or he steered that ship into the fangs. I would think he was just a fool, but a fool would not rise to be first mate on a ship so beloved by its captain." He saw his father nod in agreement. "So if the first mate was not a fool, then he must have directed Fair Lady's Kiss into the rocks on purpose. Without the lighthouse, I suppose that would be easy enough to do, but I can't imagine that the lighthouse stopped shining after all these years. We should find out for sure."

Bryce smiled and clapped Aedan on the shoulder. "My thoughts exactly."

Aedan felt his chest swell with pride.

"Take a few of the guards and pay a visit to the lighthouse," Bryce said, eyeing both his sons. "Talk to the lighthouse keeper. He's an odd man, but very loyal. I want to know what happened last night."

* * *

The lighthouse rose on a jutting piece of rock right on the edge of the cliffs that ran along the eastern coast of Highever for miles. When Aedan looked over his shoulder he could see the castle in the distance, rising above the eastern woods.

Aedan dismounted and handed his reins to one of the soldiers who had accompanied them. "Does it seem a bit quiet to you?" he asked Fergus. The crash of waves against the cliffs was the only sound aside from the stamping of hooves and the clink of armour.

"Yes, but I think that's normal," Fergus said as he dismounted.

"Have you been here before?"

"Not since I was Elissa's age," Fergus replied. "It was quiet like this too."

"Do you remember the keeper?" Aedan had a blurry image of a squat little man with a moustache and seemed to roll around his mouth.

"Not particularly. There was an old man who lived here for years, but he died the year before last. I remember father appointing a new keeper, but I don't know much about him."

None of the soldiers seemed to know anything either when Fergus asked them.

They walked up the short steps to the lighthouse's narrow doorway. A thin rope was connected to a pulley hung just above a narrow window slit above the door. Aedan reached up and gave the rope two short tugs. The sound of a bell ringing echoed from out that narrow window slit.

After a minute of waiting, Fergus shrugged his shoulders and said, "Perhaps he's out."

"Maybe," Aedan said as he tugged on the rope again.

Fergus raised his fist and pounded on the door. "Keeper?" he called loudly.

"We need to get in," Aedan said. "I don't want to go back to father and tell him that we turned away because of a locked door."

"Agreed." Fergus nodded. He stepped back from the door and called over one of the soldiers – a tall man with wide shoulders. Aedan recognised him from the practice yard. He called himself Malcolm and hidden by his helmet was a pair of piercing grey eyes that unnerved his opponents more than his muscular appearance.

"Break down the door, if you please," said Fergus jovially.

Malcolm nodded and braced himself. He stepped backwards before ramming his armoured shoulder into the door. If the door could groan, Aedan was sure it would have. Malcolm rammed the door again before lifting his foot and slamming it into the door right above the lock. The door caved in and burst open in a cloud of splinters and split wood.

"My thanks," Fergus said. He turned to the other three soldiers and held up his hands. "Watch the horses, we won't be long."

Malcolm followed them inside the lighthouse, holding the hilt of his longsword loosely in one hand. Aedan rested his own hand on his sword's pommel. Something didn't feel right and he was surer of that now than he had been when he first rang the bell and received no answer.

The lighthouse chamber was very dark, ironically, with small streams of sunlight flowing in through the small slits in the stone. A thick wooden desk and table had been pushed against one of the walls and a mouldy rug was the only decoration in a pitiful attempt to give the room some life.

"Something doesn't feel right, Fergus," he said.

"I'm inclined to agree with you," Fergus said. "I don't remember this place looking as dreary as this, but perhaps the new keeper is a man of simple tastes."

Malcolm insisted on leading the way up the narrow staircase that was hidden behind one of the stone walls.

"Do you smell that?" Fergus said.

Aedan did. "It smells rancid," he said, screwing up his nose.

As they reached the top of the stairs they found out why.

"Maker," Fergus breathed as he stepped deeper into the room and let Aedan by.

Hanging from one of the wooden support beams with the same kind of thin rope Aedan had pulled outside around his neck was a thin man with a balding head. His face was shaved clean and his clothes were torn and ratty, but that's not what stood out to Aedan. The man's eyes bulged out of their sockets, bloodshot and gaping open; his tongue protruded from his mouth. Aedan felt sick.

"I guess we know why he didn't answer the door," Fergus said. His voice sounded odd. Aedan looked over and saw Fergus holding his nose with one hand. The colour had drained from his face.

"I wonder how long he's been there." Aedan said.

"Probably no longer than a day, my lord." It was Malcolm who replied in an unsurprisingly deep voice. "Any longer and the smell would be worse, with far more flies."

"We'll cut him down and take his body back with us," Fergus said. "Father needs to know what happened."

Aedan tore his eyes away from the lighthouse keeper's body and looked around the room. A narrow bed had been pushed against one of the walls and a rickety looking door had been upended and kicked away almost directly under the keeper's body. Another set of narrow stairs curled upwards on the opposite side of the room.

"I'm going to look upstairs," Aedan said.

Fergus nodded, still standing in the same place. Malcolm drew his sword and cut the rope holding the keeper's body. It fell to the ground with a heavy crash.

Aedan stepped around the body and began climbing the stairs up. This staircase was longer than the one leading to the bedroom and the stairs were much steeper. Only the occasional weathered slit in the stone provided the much needed light.

The salty sea wind filled his nose, banishing the smell of the rotting keeper. The top floor of the lighthouse was exposed to the elements on all sides. Four thick pillars of cut stone supported the pointed roof, but they did little to block the view. He could see Highever town over the woods now and the castle seemed bigger than ever as it towered over all other buildings. He could even see the jaws out in the ocean and the remains of the ship that had crashed into them during the night. Rescue galleys swarmed around the wreckage and several galleys were sailing along the cliff face, searching for lost cargo or surviving passengers.

He turned his attention to the great lamp that stood in the middle of the floor. He had heard his father complain once at how much oil the lamp used throughout the night and Aedan could see why. The lamp was massive, far bigger than he had ever imagined it to be.

And it was definitely broken.

He frowned and stared at the cracked and shattered glass panes. It looked like someone had thrown stones through the middle and tore away the large shutters that directed the lamp's light onto the ocean.

"Why would the keeper destroy this?" he wondered aloud. It didn't make sense.

He heard glass crunch on the other side of the lamp.

A man jumped out at him from behind the lamp, slashing with a grey dagger. Aedan stumbled back, throwing up his hands and felt white hot pain flare across his forearm. The man crashed into him and they both went tumbling to the floor. He heard more glass crunch under their combined weight and of all the thoughts to pop into his head he thought about how Sophia had forced him into his chainmail and was grateful for that now.

Aedan lashed out, punching the man as hard he could in the jaw, but the man only gritted his teeth used his free hand to push Aedan's away. He raised his dagger high and a wild gleam flickered in his eyes. Aedan shoved his knee into the man's side and sent him sprawling into the broken remains of the lamp. The man howled in pain.

The man clambered out of destroyed lamp, clutching his dagger so tightly his knuckles were white. Shards of glass stuck to him, some wet with blood. He lunged forward, holding his dagger high.

Aedan pulled his own dagger from his belt and stepped into the man's attack. He grabbed the man's knife arm with his free hand and shoved the dagger as hard as he could into the man's chest.

It was over so quickly, the man didn't even cry out in pain. He just fell to the stone, shaking, fingers twitching, and then was still.

Aedan sucked in air and clutched his chest, which rose and fell in heavy heaves. His forearm burned and stained his coat red with blood. He looked down at the man who had attacked him. He was older than he was, with thin black hair and high cheekbones so high Aedan guessed he had some elvish blood in him. His eyes were dark and stared at Aedan accusingly.

Aedan felt bile rise in his throat.

He bent down and pulled his dagger out of the man's chest, wiping the blade clean on the man's dirty jerkin.

"Aedan!" Fergus shouted as he climbed up the last stairs and emerged in lamp room. "I thought I heard-" he stopped dead, staring at the corpse at Aedan's feet. "What happened?"

"He jumped out from behind the light and attacked me," Aedan said, holding up his forearm for Fergus to see.

"Are you okay?" Fergus asked.

"It's just a scratch. I'm fine."

Fergus stepped back and surveyed the scene. "I wonder what this man was doing here."

"I should have taken him alive," Aedan said, staring that the dark-haired man's body. "He can't tell us now."

"It's not your fault," Fergus said. "You act in the heat of the moment. I'd rather see him did and his information lost than you injured worse than you are trying to disarm and capture him."

"That was the first time I've killed someone," Aedan said.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Fergus, I'm fine."

Fergus stared at him before he bent down and pulled the man's money pouch from his belt. "There's a fair amount of silver in here," he said. "You'd think with this kind of coin he could afford some better clothes." He kicked the grey iron dagger with his toes. "Or a better weapon."

The sound of booted footsteps carried up the stone stairs. Malcolm appeared at the top of the stairs and took a second to process the scene before rushing over. "My lords, what happened?"

"This man was lying in wait," Fergus said, pointing at the dead man. "He attacked my brother and paid for it with his life."

Malcolm turned to Aedan and went down to one knee. "I should have gone up before you, my lord. I apologise."

"It's fine, Malcolm," Aedan said. "You did nothing wrong. It was my own foolery. What did you do with the lighthouse keeper's body?"

Malcolm rose to his feet. "I set it on the floor on the base level and covered it with the blanket from the bed. I'll send for a wagon when we return to the castle."

"At least we know why the ship crashed into the jaws," Fergus said. "Without the lighthouse the first mate would have had no idea where to navigate."

"I wonder what this one was doing here," said Aedan, frowning at the man he had killed. "It doesn't make sense. I shouldn't have killed him!"

"It doesn't matter now," Fergus said. "We have to report back to father."

Aedan nodded.

"Leave his body here," Fergus told Malcolm. "We'll deal with it when we come back with the wagon."

"Yes, my lord."

Aedan stared at the body and touched his forearm where the cut from the man's grey dagger stung and burned. His sightless eyes tore into Aedan's mind.

He didn't think he would ever forget those eyes.

* * *

Author's Note: I enjoyed establishing hints of a mystery in this chapter. It's been very dialogue heavy and I hope the conversations have seemed natural and realistic.

Special thanks to zeezle for reviewing!


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